The sun was already rising when Lily reached her small apartment. She kicked off her shoes by the door and left her bag on the couch. The walls were bare except for one small calendar and a faded photo of her parents taped above the kitchen sink. The smell of instant noodles lingered from last night. She filled a cup with water, sat at the table, and placed the flyer beside it. The words seemed louder in daylight, almost daring her to do something she had no right to dream about.

She rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t slept since yesterday afternoon, but instead of going to bed she opened her laptop and searched the agency name printed on the flyer. The website looked simple but professional—white backgrounds, tall girls, portfolio shots with bright city backdrops. They were all smiling, all glowing. Lily scrolled through them and wondered if anyone ever started behind a counter like hers.

Her roommate Maya came out of her room half-asleep, wearing a hoodie too big for her. “You’re still awake? Long shift?” she mumbled.

“Yeah,” Lily said, turning the laptop screen slightly away.

Maya poured coffee and leaned on the doorframe. “You look like you found something dangerous,” she said.

Lily smiled faintly. “Just a flyer. Some model audition thing. Probably nothing.”

“Model? You?” Maya teased, then stopped when she saw Lily’s face wasn’t joking. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“I don’t know,” Lily said softly. “I’m just tired of the same days. Same sounds. Same faces. I want to try something, even if I fail.”

Maya sat opposite her. “I mean, you could. You’ve got that clean look, you know? But it’s not easy. You’ll hear no a lot.”

“I already hear silence every night,” Lily said. “Maybe no would at least feel real.”

The two of them laughed quietly. After Maya went to shower, Lily stood by the window. The street below was waking up—kids with backpacks, delivery trucks, a dog pulling its owner toward the corner park. She pressed her hand to the glass, feeling the coolness against her skin. The idea of leaving the store was terrifying, but so was staying.

That evening, she went back to work like usual. The hum of the refrigerators felt louder, heavier. She watched the customers, the same faces, the same rhythm. Every beep of the scanner sounded like a countdown she couldn’t stop. Around midnight she reached into the drawer and took out the flyer again. The paper had a small coffee stain now, the corners soft from her fingers.

During her break she stepped outside. The air smelled of asphalt and cheap perfume from the gas station next door. She looked up at the sky—no stars, just city haze and lights that never slept. Her phone buzzed with a message from Maya: “You should go. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Lily smiled at the screen, then looked at the flyer again. The audition was on Saturday, in downtown Los Angeles. She had three days off starting Friday. The thought lined up neatly, like fate pretending to be coincidence.

When her shift ended, she walked home slower than usual. The streets were empty, just the soft sound of her sneakers on the sidewalk. She stopped by a shop window displaying mannequins dressed in bright summer clothes. For a moment she saw herself reflected beside them, standing still under the white light. She didn’t look like a model, not yet, but she didn’t look like the same girl either.

By the time she reached her apartment, dawn was breaking again. She placed the flyer on her dresser, right beside her alarm clock, so it would be the first thing she saw when she woke up. Then she whispered, almost to herself, “Saturday.”

And for the first time in months, she fell asleep with a smile.